Double Oh Dating Coach
by lb016
Summary: Q hasn't been a real date in years. He's in need of a little coaching from Britain's most suave secret agent. Post Skyfall.
1. Chapter 1

Bond was unusually early for work today; he had had some trouble sleeping the night before, and decided to give up on sleep and just get ready for the day. It was about seven o'clock in the morning when Bond was just about to enter M16 until he recognized a car that drove past. Driving the car was a young woman who was looking around frantically. Anyone else wouldn't take a second glance, but Bond deemed her actions as somewhat suspicious. Bond didn't know who she was exactly, but her face was familiar. She looked like a woman he had seen on a previous mission. Now she was on her own mission. It appeared that Bond wasn't going to be early for work today after all.

007 set off after the vehicle, following at a safe distance behind. It wasn't a difficult task on foot, because of all the traffic. The car eventually turned into a driveway, which Bond assumed led to a new enemy lair. Not a very secretive or creative place, in the middle of the city, but quite convenient as it was just down the street from M16.

Bond maneuvered through the cars in the parking lot, keeping a careful eye on the woman as she pulled into another lot on the far side of the building. Bond began to creep to the next aisle of cars when he heard the sound of a pick-up truck accelerating. 007 jumped out-of-the-way of the speeding vehicle just before he heard a crunching sound. Wait... crunching? Bond stood up and checked his pockets; his cell phone was missing. He turned around to check the ground and sure enough, Bond's week-old phone was in pieces.

"Sorry, Q," Bond said to himself as he picked up what was left of the machine, and tucked the pieces away in the inside pocket of his jacket. The driver of the truck had parked and a boy who looked to be about sixteen years of age had gotten out and was walking towards the building.

"Bloody kids," 007 sighed. But he now noticed that the parking lot was littered with teen-aged boys. They were all wearing similar clothes and walking into the same entrances. Bond had missed the sign at the end of the driveway that was labeled, "Archbishop Tenison's School." He had also missed where the woman he was following entered the building. Well, he supposed he might as well follow the crowd and pray that he crossed paths with her again.

The best way Bond could describe the inside of the building was a younger, more crowded version of M16, or a human zoo. Students were slamming locker doors shut, talking loudly across the halls, and running to various rooms. An obnoxious bell rang throughout the halls and within seconds, the halls were empty. James studied the suddenly quiet and open hallway. Walking past the nearest door and glancing inside, he realized, of course, the answer was obvious: school.

He continued walking through the hallways and peering inside the classrooms until he found the woman he had been following. He had stopped outside the door for no more than five seconds before students starting pointing toward the door.

He could hear their voices, "Miss B! Miss B! Someone's at the door!"

The young woman, Miss B, turned to look through the glass. She certainly had not expected a secret agent to visit her at work. While leaving her classroom, she called to the students, "Begin working on the homework assignment. Ask each other for help."

"Mr. Bond. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" She asked quietly as she pulled the door shut behind her. She straightened her black and white flower print skirt before she rolled up the sleeves of her blue cardigan and crossed her arms. Bond could tell she was trying to make herself seem taller even though her heels only added a few inches to her five-foot-four stature; she was still shorter than 007.

Ahh, so she recognized him, which confirmed that Bond had indeed seen her before. He couldn't help but wonder what on earth she was doing in this place; school was like prison for kids and Bond couldn't imagine anyone wanting to go back.

"Posing as a teacher; very nice job. What kind of evil plan was Silva devising that he needs you here?"

Miss B laughed, "Actually, Mr. Bond, teaching is my day job. Spying is a night and weekend gig. Mathematics is my calling; Silva realized this and helped me used my skills to their full potential. Now that he's dead, I am looking for new employment."

"I'm sure the kids would love to hear about all of your interesting adventures."

"Oh, no, my students don't need to know that their algebra teacher is secretly helping to overthrow M16. For good, this time."

James put his hands in his pockets and looked around for anyone roaming the halls.

Miss B pulled her long, wavy brown hair behind her ear and continued, "Mr. Bond, what are you doing here?"

"Please, call me James. And honestly, I followed you here because I believed you to be on some kind of secret mission. I wanted to know what exactly you were up to."

Just then a faint ringing came from the inside of Bond's jacket. Bond couldn't believe his ears when he reached in for his cell phone. Pulling out the pieces, the cracked screen showed that Q was calling.

Miss B looked at the mess, "Is this the kind of technology they give their agents now? M16 is really losing its touch. So who is it, Mr. Bond?" She reached for the piece of the phone that was lit up, showing who the caller was. Bond reacted quickly so she couldn't see it, but not fast enough as Miss B had only needed to read one letter, "Q? I've heard about your new Quartermaster. He must be quite the genius if he could design a phone that still works after being run over. Those damn kids and their outrageous driving."

Bond ignored Q's call and looked at Miss B, "Yes, Mr. Bond, I saw you in the parking lot this morning. It's not everyday that Tenison's gets a visit from an M16 agent. So, about this new Q. I want to meet him."

"I'm sorry, Miss B, but that won't happen."

"Mr. Bond, please, I don't wish to get any information from him. I've heard he's quite the looker, and I just want one date."

"One date?"

"Yes."

"Nothing more?"

"I promise."

James thought on this, Miss B was a very good actress he must admit, she could have been lying from the moment she opened her mouth. What was the harm in one date? He could easily spy on them in case her intentions were more dangerous than "just getting to know him."

"James..."

"Fine. One date. One. Tonight, eight o'clock, at the Brunswick House Cafe."

"Excellent! I'll see him tonight. I best be getting back to my class before they get too off-task. Thank you for the visit, Mr. Bond," and with that she left Bond alone in the hallway.

He hung around for another minute wondering what the hell he had just agreed to. Hoping this wouldn't cause too much trouble, 007 left for M16.

* * *

**A/N:** It feels good getting back into writing fanfictions again. And I'm glad that I could turn this originally oneshot idea into a multiple chapter story. No promises that I'll update very often, as I take my time to make sure my stories are worded perfectly, but I'll do my best. Reviews are welcome, please and thank you. =)


	2. Chapter 2

When he returned to M16, Bond made his way toward the Q Branch, keeping his eyes peeled for the Quartermaster. He wasn't sure how Q would take the news, and he was excited to find out. Suddenly James heard an impatient voice behind him.

"Bond! Where have you been?! I called you multiple times! You think just because you're 007 that you can just stroll in here whene-"

"Q! Just the man I've been looking for!" Bond turned around to face his colleague, "You have a date tonight."

"M has a new mission for you, I have some new toys for y-," he realized what the agent had just said and paused to process it, "Beg your pardon?"

Bond was already enjoying this, "You have a date tonight. It's all been arranged, you just have to show up."

"007, I'm not quite sure this is a good idea," Q was running his hand through his mop of dark hair.

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun. You two have plenty in common. She's a nerd too," James said as he put a hand on Q's shoulder. Q jumped and struggled to hold his mug with both hands protectively because he had begun to shake furiously.

"She enjoys writing computer programs that could shut down all of London?"

"Oh, no, different kind of nerd. Math nerd. She's a teacher at Tenison's down the street."

Q shook Bond's hand off, "Teacher or mad scientist, I'm no good with women, 007."

Why didn't this surprise Bond? Shaking his head, he came up with a plan, "Well, consider yourself very lucky, my boy, that you have me as your dating coach."

"Can't you just go on this date? At least you won't screw it up," Q suggested.

"That won't do; she wants to go on a date with _you. _Lesson number one: Give women what they want."

Q looked at his watch; it was only nine o'clock. It was going to be a very long day.

* * *

Bond spent the day in Q's office, leaning back in a desk chair with his feet on Q's desk. Surprised that Q had seemed to have calmed down so quickly after his initial reaction, Bond was trying to keep the nerves going; he found it entertaining that a silly little date could get someone so worked up. James pestered the Quartermaster with questions and criticisms as much as he could.

Meanwhile, Q worked on decoding new information that would be needed for 007's next mission, trying to ignore his colleague's stupid questions and tips. He picked up his mug for a sip of freshly made Earl Gray. Tea was to Q as coffee was to most other employees of M16, and he didn't mind being different; they didn't pay much attention to him anyway since he was so much younger than them.

His drink was interrupted by Bond's voice, "You're not going to drink that tonight are you?"

Q sighed and set down his cup, "Yes. Just despite the fact that you don't want me to, yes I am going to drink tea tonight. Do you mind? I'm trying to get this done for you."

"You have such nerve giving me attitude from behind your computer. Whatever will you do when you don't have your precious machine in front of you at dinner?"

"She's a _teacher_, why does what I drink matter?! She probably drinks it herself, you know," Q added, taking another sip and continuing to let his fingers dance across the keyboard.

"Okay, lesson number two: don't drink something that she would drink herself," Bond wasn't sure if he should tell his grasshopper the truth yet, but he decided to go for it, "Q, I guess you should know…"

Rolling his eyes, Q replied, "What? She's married? She has four eyes?"

Bond was irritated by this boy's responses so he figured the details weren't that important, "She really won't appreciate your rude temperament. Let that be lesson number three. If you don't think you need my help, fine. I'll leave you to your work then. I can't wait to watch you make a complete fool out of yourself later tonight."

Even as Bond stormed out of the room, Q's fingers never slowed down. It wasn't until 007 had left Q Branch that the Quartermaster stopped and looked away from the rows of numbers in the screen.

"Shit," Q realized he actually needed Bond's help if this date was going to be any form of success. He pushed his chair away from the desk and ran out of his office to hunt down the agent. Luckily, Q didn't have to go far; in fact, he nearly ran into 007 when Bond stepped around the corner directly into Q's path. Q jerked back, straightening his hair and glasses.

James smiled cunningly, "Q."

Q couldn't believe his next words, "I need your help."

* * *

**A/N:** I wanted to do more with this chapter, but I've had a bad case of the writer's block. So I'm uploading what I have and after exams are done, I'll keep working on it. Thank you to my loyal readers!


	3. Chapter 3

Q had just sat down in front of his computer with his mug of tea when he heard a knock at the door. He signed and mentally prepared himself for even more criticism from Bond. Q began to take one more sip of tea before the knocking turned into pounding, causing the Quartermaster to nearly choke on his drink. Now angered, he went over to let his impatient guest inside.

Bond smirked as he entered his colleague's flat, "Evening, Q," he took one of his hands out of his pocket to point at Q, "You got a little something there."

Q looked down frantically at his brand new sweater and found a spot where some of his Earl Gray had spilled. He glared at the agent and spoke through clenched teeth, "Bond!"

"Relax. Your precious sweater will be just fine. Besides, you were going to change any way," James said.

Gazing at his outfit, Q was confused; He hadn't planned on changing a single thing, but he didn't say anything to Bond. He knew 007 would never let him out of his flat in this state, but he wasn't about to start that argument now. He simply went back to his couch and his computer to finish up some work.

Meanwhile, Bond gave himself a tour of Q's flat. Very plain; he supposed decorations didn't mean much to his coworker, as all he ever laid his eyes on was his computer gadgets. No pictures of family or places, no plants, not even fake ones, rather boring. What was Bond thinking, setting Q up with this agent that he knew nothing about, except for the fact that she worked for Silva. He should have known that he wouldn't be able to transformthis awkward boy into a gentleman worthy of Miss B; or any decent woman for that matter. But it was too late to give up now.

When Bond returned to the living room, he found Q pacing with his laptop, typing furiously with one hand and talking to himself. James took a seat on the couch near the end table, helping himself to a drink of Scotch from Q's supply. The agent's smirk had now turned into silent laughter as he watched the young man move back and forth nervous as ever.

Finally he had to stop his young grasshopper, "Q."

Q continued to pace while he answered Bond, "What, 007? Care to tell me how else I'm going to fuck up this evening?"

"Q, go change. Once you see yourself looking decent, you'll feel much calmer about tonight."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Everything. Q, you have to have _some_ kind of nice dinner jacket!"

Q was getting more worked up, "Bond, she is a teacher! She won't give-"

"Teacher by day, agent by night!" 007 shouted loud enough to make the room echo. James had kept the truth long enough, "She puts on her innocent math teacher disguise in the classroom, but the second she leaves, she's a manipulative little bitch using her highly developed math skills to help our enemies. She knows how to dress, and you can bet your life on it that she won't waste an opportunity to make an impression tonight. If you arrive looking like that, she'll size you up as nothing more than an arrogant college student, which will give her even more reassurance that M16 is going to pieces."

"More reassurance?" Q questioned his agent.

Realizing what he said, Bond put his hand on his forehead in exasperation. He took the shattered cell phone out of his jacket pocket from earlier that day and threw it on the table in front of him. Q's jaw dropped at the sight of his destroyed creation. Arrogant college graduate or not, he took pride in his work, and didn't appreciate seeing some careless secret agent throwing it around like useless junk.

"Bond? What the hell happened?"

"Yeah, I meant to tell you about that at HQ. It still works, though. I got your calls while I was at the school. Miss B was very impressed with your technology-making skills. Probably why she wanted to meet you."

Q was still staring at the scraps of the phone, so Bond took them away and put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "You can play with your toys later," he checked his watch to make sure they still had time, "It's nearly quarter after seven. Go change and we'll go over some last-minute details."

He shoved Q off to his bedroom, sat back, and enjoyed another drink of Scotch.

Q appeared fifteen minutes later wearing black dress shoes, black pants, a white shirt, black tie, and black dinner jacket. His specs still remained and his hair was still a curly mess, but Bond had to do a double take when he saw the Quartermaster. He set down his glass and got up to straighten the grasshopper's jacket and tie.

"Q, I didn't believe you could actually clean up," Bond told Q as he pulled the collar into place. He patted the finished product and said, "Miss B might actually be impressed."

"Bond?"

"Q."

"Are you sure I can do this?" He sounded like a little boy talking to his father.

James smiled and answered, "You'll be fine. Now, she's going to try to get information from you; anything she can. Don't fall for it. Just change the subject or make an excuse to leave the table. Be careful, and you'll be just fine."

"Thank you, 007."

"Here, I got a little something for you," He took a small gadget from his pocket.

Q put his hand out and accepted the gift. He grinned when he saw what it was. He put the earpiece in his ear and suddenly felt a boost of confidence. He felt calm knowing that Bond would be on this date with him. He would not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or not saying anything at all. He tugged on his jacket and walked toward the door.

"Let's go," he called over his shoulder before leaving the flat.


	4. Chapter 4

Q and Bond arrived at Brunswick House Café a few minutes before eight; Q exited the car at the entrance of the restaurant and Bond drove to the parking lot where he set up his work station. Actually, Bond just adjusted the two computer screens; Q had gotten the programs set up so James would be able to assist Q on his date.

James activated the programs and Q appeared on the video screen. He was wandering outside the café looking for Miss B. It finally occurred to the Quartermaster that he didn't have a clue what this woman looked like. He stopped walking through the small crowd of people outside the restaurant and glanced around him.

When Q's eyes peered towards the building, a couple moved, revealing behind them a young woman leaning on the brick wall. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that elegantly rested on her shoulder, so that you could clearly see her smoky eyes and dark red lipstick. The dark amethyst dress flowed around her body till it reached the ground, and she had this look of confidence and mystery about her that made Q's jaw drop a mile. He stood staring at Miss B until he heard Bond's voice in his ear.

"Well what are you waiting for, you bloody idiot, go introduce yourself!" Bond shouted into the microphone. Q jumped at 007's instructions, and started walking slowly toward the brick wall where Miss B stood waiting.

She recognized the Quartermaster before Q even made it to her side, but she had to do a double take; she'd heard about Q's particular style and dinner jackets were most certainly not a part of it. Miss B's mouth opened slightly but she closed it before her jaw could drop completely.

Bond walked Q through this crucial moment, "Q, this is the most important first impression you are ever going to make. When you reach her, take her hand, say her name, and kiss the back of her hand. Keep eye contact as much as possible. Try to imitate that look of mystery that she is wearing. Compliment that magnificent dress of hers. Tell her that the glitter of the dress matches the sparkle in her eyes. And when she smiles, wrap her arm around yours and lead her inside."

Q did as he was told; looking into Miss B's eyes as he took the last few steps toward her. Q took hold of her hand, "Miss B," he said, bowing slightly to kiss her hand. When he brought his head back up, Miss B's eyes met his and she peered carefully as if she were discovering all of Q's deepest, darkest secrets. This intimidated Q like no other, and he froze in fear.

"Don't let her gaze intimidate you, Q! Compliment her! Stay with it, Q!" James hissed. He put his hand on his face in exasperation; 007 couldn't believe that Q was failing already. This man could hack security programs under the most pressure, yet he couldn't even tell a woman that she looked pretty.

Q shot up, and mumbled, "You look beautiful," quickly losing every ounce of confidence.

Miss B moved closer, her face wrinkling with confusing, "Sorry? What was that?" she asked the Quartermaster. Q stood with his mouth frozen open, incomprehensible sounds coming out as he tried to recover his poise.

"Q, stop. Take a deep breath and try again. Don't screw this up," Bond's voice whispered into Q's ear.

Q took a breath: in and out. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them again and saw Miss B's beauty, he felt nervous again. He did manage to stammer, "You look lovely, Miss B."

While he led her inside for dinner, Miss B's mind was racing, "_I ask for a date with the Quartermaster, and Bond sends me this kid? This is the infamous Quartermaster?! He can't even execute a proper introduction without tripping all over himself. Poor Bond, poor M16. Things just aren't the way they used to be. At this rate, I'll be able to charm the security codes for the whole country out of this kid, if I can get him to say one whole word without stammering._"

Bond was taking Q through the evening step-by-step, and surprisingly things had gotten better since the introduction. The couple was seated, the waiter had poured their wine, and Miss B was telling Q about life in the classroom. Bond told Q when he should nod, agree, and compliment his date during their conversation.

"I don't smile until almost Thanksgiving. You have to show them that you mean business up front so they know that they can't get away with anything. You know how teenage boys can be. They drive me absolutely crazy most days!" Miss B explained, waving her glass of wine in the air as she spoke.

She had hardly taken any sips, but she noticed that Q hadn't touched his glass since they had clinked glasses in a toast of health and prosperity.

"You don't like the wine?" she asked the Quartermaster, who jumped when she called him out.

Q shook as he reached for his glass in reply, but didn't fully grasp the cup. White wine spilled all over the table, causing Miss B to shriek in fear of her dress being ruined.

Bond's voice echoed in Q's ear, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAPPENED, Q?! …Q?!"

But the Quartermaster had had enough of Bond's help. He shouted back at the agent, "Shut up, 007! I'm doing my bloody best and you're only making me more nervous!"

Their server had quickly returned with extra napkins to soak up the liquid. Q slouched back in his chair, flinging his hand up to his head in exasperation. He murmured to himself and began running his hand through his thick hair. Miss B examined this breakdown, and almost immediately felt sympathy for the Quartermaster.

"_He's young; And stressed out beyond belief. He's got so much weight on his shoulders, and that bloody 007 isn't helping. I wonder…"_ She rose from her seat to kneel beside Q. She reached up to his ear where the communication device was placed, and removed it.

Miss B whispered in his now free ear, "I think that's enough from 007. And enough talk about me; I want to hear about what you," She put her hand beneath his chin and raised it so she could see Q's eyes. They were captivating, not dark and mysterious like she had thought, but hidden behind those specs, she would have never known for sure. It was strenuous not to kiss him right then. Instead she climbed back into her chair, playing with a loose strand on her wrap that lay across the armrest.

After a short silent moment between them, Miss B peered back at Q, who was still leaning back in his seat. His eyes moved to meet her gaze.

"Well, go on," she motioned to him, "Tell me about yourself."

Q was not used to "telling people about himself." In fact, no one had asked him that question in a very long time. He sat back up in his chair, "Well, what do you want to know?"

"Oh, anything. Tell me about your family."

"My family?" Q paused. What could he tell her about them? He hadn't even thought about his mother and sisters in years. He didn't even know if they were still in Wiltshire where he grew up.

* * *

**A/N:** Finally, an update! Sorry guys! Thank you for being so patient!


	5. Chapter 5

"Yes, your family. Do you have any sisters or brothers?" Miss B inquired.

"Umm, yes. My two younger sisters, Lucie and Violet, and I lived with my mother in Wiltshire. My father left when I was seven. My mother hated work so she remarried a Lieutenant less than fifteen months after my father disappeared. She had Lucie a year later, then Violet two years after that. It was the Lieutenant who introduced me to computer programming; he wouldn't be home for long periods of time, but when he was he told stories of military technology."

Miss B couldn't help if her "interested" face looked like her "seductive" face. She knew Q hadn't told anyone his story, or if this story was even true, but she wanted to know. She wanted to know all the layers of Q. The original idea was one date, but the math teacher had no idea that she would ever want something more.

Q went on and on, he was finally starting to feel comfortable with this woman. Who knew it was possible? _"007 will be so proud of me! I can't wait to tell him about tonight!"_ Q thought as he continued his biography, "I left when Violet was two years old to search for my father. Using the computer technology that the Lieutenant had told me about, I tried to track him down. When one program wouldn't work, I eventually figured out how to write another one. Before I knew it, I had completely reinvented my identity. M16 found me before I could find my father; it would have been dangerous if anyone else had found me. I've been there ever since. Honestly I don't even know how my mother and sisters are getting along."

The waiter interrupted the conversation, "May I get you any dessert this evening?"

Q gestured to Miss B, who looked up to their server and told him, "I think I'll just have a cup of tea."

She turned her head back to face Q, who smiled and ordered without taking his eyes off of his beautiful date, "I'll have the same."

When their tea arrived, Miss B wanted to know more, "Have you tried to find your father since you've been at M16? Surely there would be some program with the ability to retrieve his whereabouts."

Q paused before he answered, realizing that he hadn't thought about his father since he began working at M16. They had made sure he was busy with all sorts of assignments that would distract him from attempting to find his family. He looked down and fought back the tears that were forming; Q had given up on his father.

Miss B saw this and immediately reached across the table to grasp Q's hand to try to stop his tears.

"Forget I asked, Q. I'm so sorry. Let's talk about something else," she offered. But it was no use; Q continued to hang his head at the thought of his lost father. Suddenly, an idea occurred, "Q? Q, look at me, I have an idea. I want you to come to my school. Come talk to the students about computer programming. You know how boys are with their video games; they would absolutely love to hear you speak."

The Quartermaster lifted his head. He had never spoken in front of people about what he does. M probably wouldn't even allow him to go, but that didn't stop Q from replying with, "I'd love to. How about tomorrow?"

Miss B's grin stretched from ear to ear and she jumped from her seat slightly. She clasped Q's right hand in both of hers, "Oh, thank you, Q! This will be so wonderful for the boys!"

Q had wanted to see this reaction, so he couldn't bare it to say no. He didn't want to upset this lovely math teacher. He wasn't sure what it was that made him feel so comfortable around her, but he didn't want it to stop. He needed to see her again, soon. Q made the mistake of glancing at his watch, and seeing that it was nearly eleven o'clock, he decided that it was time to call it a night.

Miss B also saw the time, and she knew what was going through the Quartermaster's mind. She didn't want to return to her empty flat, where she would sleep alone. The only thing that placated this thought was that she would see Q again. She draped her wrap around herself and linked her arm through Q's. They strolled out of the café where a brisk breeze greeted them. Miss B clung closer to Q and her wrap in efforts to shield herself from the wind. The young Quartermaster noticed the goose bumps on her arm and brought her closer to him still.

Out of the corner of his eye, Q thought he saw a pair of eyes watching them. He brushed it off as someone admiring Miss B's dress as the couple strolled down the sidewalk. Q quickly observed his surroundings to make sure they weren't being followed. There was a small group standing outside the building after their dinner, and a few cars pulling out of the driveway. He faced forward again, satisfied that they were safe. However, a car pulled out of the restaurant driveway behind them, driving slowly, following at a distance so that it would not be seen by the Quartermaster.

A short walk ended at Miss B's flat, where Q and Miss B stood in that awkward moment of "Should we or should we not kiss now?" But it wasn't long before Q caught sight of a car inching along the road with its headlights turned off. Q wasn't taking any chances, so he quickly pecked his date on the cheek and told her good night. He pushed her lightly towards the door and strode off in the direction of the mysterious vehicle. The Quartermaster checked to make sure that the door to the complex had closed, insuring that the woman was safely inside. When he turned back around the car had stopped, and the driver door was opening.

Bond stepped out of the car, smiling and applauding Q's performance, "Well done, grasshopper. I underestimated you, and you have proven yourself more than worthy of a woman's attention. Come, let's get you home."

Q was surprised at 007's reaction. He had done something that made James proud? Something besides a new gadget to play with and destroy. He got in the car opposite Bond and asked the agent, "You were watching us the whole time, weren't you?"

James nodded as he shifted the car into first gear, driving back to Q's flat.

"So what exactly did you two talk about after I left the conversation?" Bond questioned.

"I thought you said you were watching?" Q snapped.

"_Watching_, Q, not listening. I'm just curious as to how you completely turned this date around. And what the hell did you do that caused such chaos at the table?"

Q blushed at the memory of his embarrassing wine spill and decided that he would never tell Bond about the incident and instead answered the other question, "She told me about what it's like being a teacher, and I told her about how I became so interested in computers. Real basic, first date, getting-to-know-you kind of stuff."

James glanced over at his coworker, "So when are you going to see her again?"

"Tomorrow. I'm going to her school to talk to her students about computers and programming."

"Excellent," Bond replied, "M's going to love hearing this news."

Q flinched at the thought of the phone call he would have to make when he returned home. M is definitely _not_ going to love that Q was not coming into work tomorrow. He was supposed to turn in several reports of decodings and be briefed about a new assignment for 007. All that will have to wait until Thursday. Tomorrow morning, he would be at Tenison's where he will be spending the entire school day with this marvelous young woman. That thought alleviated the anticipation of M's shouting through the phone.


End file.
